


Fire to the World

by Silverlyte



Series: Silverlyte's Sabriel Oneshots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, POV Gabriel, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlyte/pseuds/Silverlyte
Summary: His smile is wide and mischievous, traces of a candy cane long since dissolved still lingering on his tongue, when he says, instead, “Technically it wasn’t on fire.”Because today?Today they're all going to pretend.Today, nothing bad can exist. There can only be this; the quiet and the cold, them gathered together to watch the snow drift and pile higher.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Silverlyte's Sabriel Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005450
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Fire to the World

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: No one expects an angel to set the world on fire  
> ~I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Do not post on others sites or translate.~

**Fire to the World**

Fat, white flakes drift down, encasing the air around them, burying the ruins of what was once whole.   
  


Muffling everything in their wake, like blankets thrown up and pulled tight over one's head.   
  


Covering up the ugliness that lurks in shadows and underneath beds in a brightness that is not yet tainted, not yet touched.   
  


It falls and it collects on everything in its way, until the quietness is in the branches of the trees, and stilling the rush of streams.  
Until it is all that there is.  
  


It’s Dean that interrupts the silence first, his voice a low, slurred drawl. Tinged with the same lazy amusement that has his mouth curling at the edge. “No one ever expects an angel to be the one settin’ fire to the world.”  
  


_Lucifer was an angel_ , Gabriel doesn’t say, because they all knew how that was supposed to end.  
  


It’s just that no one thought Gabriel would be the one with the lighter in his hand when it did.  
  


His smile is wide and mischievous, traces of a candy cane long since dissolved still lingering on his tongue, when he says, instead, “Technically it wasn’t on fire.”  
  


Because today?  
  


Today they're all going to pretend.  
  


Today, nothing bad can exist. There can only be this; the quiet and the cold, them gathered together to watch the snow drift and pile higher.   
  


Sam's breath stirring the hairs at the back of his neck, his nose burrowed there where its hidden from the nip of the wind.   
  


His arms are wrapped tight around his waist; he hasn't let go since Gabriel stepped back and settled there, onto his lap.   
  


Gabriel is an archangel.  
  


He doesn't feel temperatures the way that humans do, but he appreciates the heat of his body nonetheless. Leans into it with an eagerness he feels no shame in. 

Is rewarded for it with the brief press of lips against his nape.   
  


"What you mean it wasn't on fire?!" Dean's voice is loud but there's no hostility in it. Only the slight suspicion that has him narrowing his eyes.  
  


Gabriel suspects he's more than a little drunk and a lot of sleepy.  
  


When he peers back at him, and not for the first time, he is greeted by the sight of the older Winchester sprawled out, his head cushioned in Castiel's lap.  
  


None of the snow has melted out from beneath him, and none that falls lands on either of them.   
  


Wings, long and dark, so out of place in this land claimed by paleness, are stretched out, unseen by anyone other than the two angels.   
  


They shield Dean. Wrap him up in a cocoon of warmth and security, save him from the wetness of snow melting into his clothes.  
  


Cas threading fingers through Dean's hair, smoothing them absently across his cheeks and back up again.  
  


His head cocked ever slightly to the side, a crease between his brows and his mouth slightly parted.  
  


Gabriel recognizes that look. The sense of awe that comes with realizing something, someone, is truly yours.   
  


Realizing you're free to touch them. To love them. That it won't hurt as much as you thought it would to do so.  
  


It's a feeling he still has with Sam.   
  


He's not sure that amazement ever fades.   
  


And sometimes he's still so scared that one day, that pain will come creeping up. That Sam will be done.  
  


With them. With this.  
  


"Gabe," Sam says, and he thinks for a split second that he's heard the thought. That he knows. 

Only. The tone is all wrong. It's playful, mock disapproval, "You completely blew it up."  
  


It takes him another beat. Two. To remember the conversation. He's so focused on Sam's voice. On the way the puff of his breath makes him shiver.   
  


And then he's grinning all over again. "Exactly! Blew up - kaboom, kapeesh?" Gabriel lifts his hand. Makes to snap his fingers, summon another candy cane.  
  


His mittens, red and white striped, get in the way and he frowns at them, accusing.   
  


He summons one anyways, minus the snapping, and sticks the end in his mouth. Mumbles around it, "No fire involved!"  
  


When they first came outside, Dean had eyed him and snorted.  
  


And then he'd seen Sam. Had spent a good few minutes laughing at their matching hats and mitts, until there were tears in his eyes and daggers in Sam's.   
  


What can he say?  
  


Gabriel lives for human traditions.   
  
And what sort of Christmas Eve would it be without being bundled up in couples attire with his Samalam?   
  


"Wha- how does that make any sense?" Sam is asking. He shifts. Tucks his nose back in against his neck, "You literally lit the-"  
  


"That wasn't part of the world!" Gabriel waves him off with the candy cane.   
  


Sam snorts.   
  


Dean is suspiciously quiet.  
  


Like he's drifting to sleep.   
  


For a long while, there is just the fall of snow again.  
  


Just the quiet.   
  


And then, softly, "I was not aware blowing up a globe was one of the Christmas traditions."  
  


Gabriel laughs. "It is now, little bro. It is now."  
  


Because if anyone deserved to set what may or may not be fire to the world - it was certainly them.


End file.
